Reality's Nightmare
by Amy Lock
Summary: Picking up the pieces of his life is one of the hardest things he's ever had to face. New chapter four.
1. Intro

Author: Amy Lock  
  
Story Title: Reality's Nightmare  
  
Dedication: This story is solely dedicated to Kiki, for inspiring me to keep up with my writing.  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters. They belong to the creators and producers of Dark Angel. The song belongs to SheDaisy.  
  
Notes: This story takes place right at the end of AJBAC. The story will continue to the lapse in between the first season and the second one.   
I just wanted to say thank-you to the first five people who responded. This is my first fanfic, and I wasn't sure if it was even worthy of reviews, but you guys made me feel awesome about it. Thanks for the encouragement.  
  
This song does not have too much to do with this fic, other than that it inspired me to write it. Everytime I hear the song, all I can think about is how Logan would have been feeling.  
  
STILL HOLDING OUT FOR YOU  
  
  
Never thought I'd be in this place,  
It's someone else's life I'm living  
Wish I were living a lie  
  
The hardest part is when the bough breaks,  
Falling down and then forgiving  
You didn't kiss me good-bye  
  
I'm choking on the words I didn't get to say  
I pray I'll get the chance one day  
  
I still run, I still swing open the door  
I still think you'll be there like before  
Doesn't everybody out there know to never come round  
Some things a heart won't listen too  
I'm still holding out for you  
  
I can hear you smile in the dark  
I can even feel you breathing  
But daylight chases the ghosts  
  
I see your coat and I fall apart  
To those hands of you I'm clinging  
Now's when I need them most  
  
I should get up, dry my eyes and move ahead,  
At least that's what you would have said  
  
I still run, I still swing open the door  
I still think you'll be there like before  
Doesn't everybody out there know to never come round  
Something's a heart won't listen to,  
I'm still holding out for you  
  
Faithfully I trace your name while you sleep  
It's the only true comfort I feel  
  
I still run, I still swing open the door  
I still think, you'll be there like before  
  
I still run, I still swing open the door  
I still think, you'll be there like before  
Doesn't everybody out there know to never come round  
Something's a heart won't listen to  
I'm still holding out for you  
  
  



	2. Reality's Nightmare

The dreams were bad sometimes, bad enough that he would wake up in cold sweats, his breathing distorted from the hell in his mind. Visions swarmed through his subconsious, visions that made him numb for hours on end, visions that raged forever inside of him without a moment's peace. These were the nights that he was dead, these were the nights that nothing he had seen, no matter how horrible, could compare to the evil sirens in the night, calling, begging him to surrendor to what would feel so good. But he couldn't do it, he wouldn't do it, because what they were asking was too much. They were asking for a hell far worse than the one he was in right now. And no matter how beautiful the voices, he always heard a much more beautiful, stronger one telling him to hold fast, for they were trying to lead him to a devestation so radical that nothing compared to it, not even death. They were asking him to forget.  
The first night should have been the hardest. When he woke up, he half expected to find her in his arms. But instead, he found that his wishes were his worst enemy, because now, his wishes weren't going to come true. At that moment, however, there was no real realization. He listned to the man in front of him drone on about what had happened, catching only a few words.   
"...not our fault...I know you loved her, son...must go on...it won't help...believe me, I know."  
After listning to the whole lecture, he just looked up slowly at the man and blinked. He simply just blinked, and the man came into focus. Panic spread through every limb of his body.   
No...no, focus was not good. Focus was not what he needed. Focus was his enemy, it was real, and this wasn't. If this was real his life would have ended. If this was real, he wouldn't be at his home, if this was real than he would be feeling something, and he wasn't. This wasn't real.  
His reality blurred. There were no real faces, just blurs and words. This was good, he could handle blurs, he could even handle the words, because words could be in dreams, couldn't they? He faintly remembered hearing words in his dreams before. Yes, words were in dreams, he could remember that much. It was safe to remember dreams. He remembered something else about dreams too. Dreams with a dance, and a woman, and a love. It was hard to see it, to see her clearly, but that was okay with him, he didn't want to see her. But he did want to hear her.  
"Dance with me."  
"I'm not asking you to walk, I'm asking you to dance."  
"Don't let go. Promise."  
"There's something I have to tell you."  
"I should have told you a long time ago..."  
  
  
The scream split the air. It wasn't her scream, he knew that much, for she hadn't had the chance to scream, not in his dream. He awoke to see the familiar face of his friend staring at him with concern. He said something unclear and stayed awhile, but when he realized that now wasn't the time for company, he excused himself, and said something about checking in after. Moments later, nothing was there but silence. And he realized that the scream had been his.  
  
He woke up to the sound of children playing in the street. They were laughing giddily, and he wondered to himself when he had fallen asleep again. He didn't remember any more dreams, and for that, he was grateful. He was not grateful, however, for the children. Normaly he loved kids, but right now, their happiness brought him back to her childhood; what she had told him about it, the pictures he had seen. The laughter made him feel sick again, and he mustered up enough strength to walk over and shut the window. It fell with a clang, and silence followed. Dead silence, he was happy for that too.   
  
He turned around, he was going back to bed, but he then realized that he was in his living room. He had been sleeping on the couch. The fog in his mind ignored the question of how and why he was in his present location, and that was okay. The fog kept questions out that he didn't want answered.   
  
Walking to the kitchen, he stumbled.  
  
"Damn it," he muttered to himself; the first coherent words he had used in days. Shaking his head, he reached down to pick up the black nuisense. As he did such, he caught a scent that sent shivers trickling down his spine. For the first time since that fateful night, feeling returned to his body. Memories swept and swirled around him in a cascade of fire, alternately burning and freezing his already chared emotions. Faces and words crept into his conciousness, people and places that he had been trying so desperatly hard to make dissapear. He had thought that if he remained numb, that it could not touch him. The fire inside proved otherwise.  
  
In his hand was her jacket.  
  
He had not let himself cry. He had not let what had happened be real in his mind. He had not let her name steal upon him. Not until now. But with the evidance so clear in front of him, her name came.   
  
And for the first time since Max had died in his arms on that night, Logan Cale cried.  
  



	3. She Was My Boo

Story: Reality's Nightmare  
  
Author: Amy (aka Sea Angel)  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own 'em  
  
  
  
  
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Logan sat on the edge of his bed, thinking. He had just finished his rehabilitation session with Bling. It had been one week since Max's death, and he was only now begining to feel its effects. He had wished this day would never come, but he had known that it would anyway. He had learnt rather abruptly in the last year, that his wishes meant nothing. He had thought, for a brief moment, that perhaps they did. When his lips touched hers on that night, when she told him that she didn't care whether or not he could walk, when she asked him, almost pleadingly, if "it" would wait; when those things had happened, he had thought...he had almost dared to dream that one day...  
  
But that was over now. Those dreams would never be. They had been murdered the same way she had, and they were now no more. What he was left with was an ache in the pit of his stomach, and a pain in his chest, and a realization that he was not the only one in her life who should be allowed to mourn her. He was being selfish. Wallowing in sickness and grief felt right enough for him at the moment, but he had remembered, with a wave of naseaua, that Max's friends did not know.   
  
The thought made him cringe, for the only people who really knew were himself, Lydecker, Bling, Krit and Syl. Krit and Syl were having difficulties of their own coping with what had happened, Lydecker had dissapeared shortly after, though he swore that he would return, and it wasn't fair to ask Bling to be the bearer of such awful news. It was up to him. He knew it had to be done, it was part of the puzzle that he needed to put together if he was to get a grip on his life. His life, which had been blown to pieces by the bomb of truth that had wrecked his world.  
  
Slowly, he lowered his head to look at the phone in his lap. Never before had he felt quite this much fear and hatred of an inadimate object. With trembling fingers, he pressed the on button, and listned for a dial tone. When he heard the familiar dull note, his fingers began to shakily recall the digits of her number. His heart cramped, his vision blurred, and he let out a small gasp of pain as the phone dropped from his palm with a loud bang to the floor. Shoulders heaving, he followed the phone's path until he, too was on the floor, letting his grievances show yet again. He stayed that way for an hour.  
  
When his world came into focus once again, he realized that the phone wouldn't cut it. Had she phoned him to tell about Max's death, he would have been infuriated at her inconsideration. Going to Max's house, however, was not something he was sure that he could handle. He had seen more devastation and tears and pain in his lifetime, then anyone should have to deal with in centuries, but nothing could compare to this.   
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At her door, he almost lost it again, but he held fast to the knowledge that this is what Max would have wanted him to do. His hand balled itself into a fist at his side, and it wasn't until he raised that fist to knock, that he noticed how much he was shaking. Almost convulsing, really, and he began to understand why the seizures scared a genetically engineered soldier so much. He too, had thought he had control over his emotions. He had known to much to believe that he could control his life, but he had figured that he was the master of his feelings. But like the convulsions reminded Max of her inadequacies, his lack of self-control reminded him of his love for her.  
  
He knocked at the door.  
  
As footsteps apprached the door, Logan's mind found itself in a state of recollection. He had heard them, as hard as he had tried not to, he had listned to their conversation that night. He had seen and felt the pain and fear from Max as she declared to him that she owed Cindy the truth. Smart or not, Max had declared, she had earned it.  
  
Logan was not used to the sight of Max crying, but that night, as he heard the tears in her eyes, he had realized just how vulnerable she really was.  
  
"I was scared that if I told you what was up, it would all change. And that you'd look at me like I was some kind of freak, that you didn't even recognize."  
  
The footsteps were coming closer, but to Logan, they seemed to be moving remarkably slow.  
  
"You could've died putting that bitch in your head, but you did it anyway, to get my back."   
  
The door swung open with an intensity that Logan had rarely seen before. Original Cindy stood before him with a look of frantic anger in her eyes.  
  
"You are my boo, for life. No matter what."  
  
They stood there like that, for what seemed an eternity. Cindy with furious, storming eyes, and Logan with pained blue ones. It was as there eyes met, that the anger began to be replaced with something even more sickening. As realization parted the clouds in her eyes, the color drained from Cindy's face. Finally she spoke.  
  
"Don't you come telling me no bad news now, boy. I have worried so much this past week that I deserve for her to come home right now and tell me that she don't have to be running no more. I deserve for her to be here instead of you, telling me that I was right about you two, and that the reason she hasn't shown up here is because you guys went off on some romantic adventure."  
  
Her voice had risen considerably since she had started, and Logan was afraid that she was on the brinks of hysterics.  
  
"I deserve for my boo..."  
  
Her voice faltered, and he could hear the tears forming in her throat.   
  
"I deserve for my boo to be...for my boo to be alive."  
  
As she uttered those last words, her resolve broke, her voice cracked, and the tears that he had heard forming, spilled onto her cheeks in sheets of rain.   
  
He caught her in his arms before she hit the ground from her legs that refused to work. Understanding and hurt held both of them tight in their grasp, and he was afraid that if he were to let go, she would fall. She would fall just like he would without his wheelchair or exoskeleton. She would fall because she had lost those things, her support, her fun. And the only coherent thought that kept running through her head made her cry any harder. The only thing that she could manage to mutter summed up the pain that she was feeling inside.   
  
"She was my boo."  
  
Cindy knew that those words meant more to her than anything else at the moment, and she knew that she would give anything in the world if she could just tell Max that again. But she couldn't, and so that was why she stayed in Logan's firm grip, repeating the sentence over and over and over again.  
  



	4. Embers

Author: Amy Lock  
  
Title: Reality's Nightmare  
  
A/n: Wow, nothing like writers block on one story to get your juices flowing on another. It may not be as emotional or good as the last ones, but at least I broke out of my rut. And for those of you who are waiting for chapter nine of "No Greater Love", I'm nearing the end of writing it, so it should be posted with five days. I hope you enjoy.  
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He walked to his car slowly, like a man waiting for his execution. In a way he was, but in a way, his death had already been committed. He had died with her in his arms, and he would never forget that feeling. He doubted that he would ever even get over it. All he knew was that he had to try.  
  
When his parents had died he felt confused, hurt and betrayed. But little by little, those feelings were swept away, and they were replaced by something more pleasant. As time continued, he found himself able to speak of them; to quote his mother's kind words and to tell tales of his father's short lived time with him. Eventually, the nightmares and sadness turned into dreams of acceptance where his parents were safe and warm and still devotedly looking over him. He began to accept the fact that though he could not see them, their presence would always be with him.  
  
Max's death was different. The nightmares hadn't slowed down-on the contrary, they had increased dramatically. They had gotten so bad that he was beginning to fear sleep and the images that it conjured. Every morning he would wake up gasping for air, his blankets wet with a mixture of tears and sweat. Each night they changed, but the outcome remained the same. He tried to help her, he tried so damn hard, but his attempts only served to kill her. His last dream was more potent than ever. She was standing in the middle of a frozen lake, calling to him for help, saying that she needed him. He ran to her, his heavy footsteps increasing the cracks in the imperfect cold surface. She reached out her hand for his, her mouth forming words that he couldn't make out no matter how hard he tried. He was so close, all he needed was one more step, and she would be safe in his arms. But just as his fingers touched hers a deafening crack split the air, and the ice fell out from under her feet. Screaming her name he grabbed for her, but she had disappeared into the opaque depths. When he woke up from that one, he was sure that his heart had gone with her.  
  
Bling was over every day now, sensing that he was needed. Max had told him about that night with Dr. Vertes. She had made Bling swear that if anything were to happen to her, he would make sure that Logan made it through. Bling had never realized how much he was needed until he had walked in one day on Logan sitting at the computer desk. At first he was thrilled, thinking that Eyes Only would be back and would be a great healing for his friend. But then he realized that the machines were off, and the look on Logan's face was anything but healed. His breathing was severely distorted, almost painful. His features were set in a grim expression that took Bling's breath away, but it was his eyes that would forever be burned into the kind physiotherapists memory. Never before had he seen such pain. If Logan had thought that his injury was the worst thing that could happen to him, Max had proved him wrong in the most unthinkable way ever. She had left him. And his eyes bore proof of that burden.  
  
Cindy wasn't faring much better. She had not known of the mission to save Tinga, only that Max would be temporarily out of town. Although Max had sworn to her that it was nothing to worry about, Cindy had felt the cold fingers of doubt grip her heart tightly even before Max was due back. As each day went on, her worries increased and her days passed in clouds of fearful haze. For every excuse she gave Normal, her heart constricted a little more, fearing the worst with no conformation of anything. As the first week without Max drew to a close she still hadn't heard any news and her mind was beginning to lose concentration. At Normal's snapped demand, she turned to him in a fog and whispered, "I don't know". Never before had she known an excuse to silence their boss so quickly or effectively. It seemed that even he was getting worried. When Logan finally broke the news, Cindy had called and requested a day off. Her voice was so tired and full of grief that Normal didn't argue, and when she returned to work to explain what had happened, he suggested that they discuss it in his office. Cindy couldn't recall a time when Jam Pony had ever been quiet, but as she exited Normal's office that day, her tough but loving face streaked with anguished tears, a pin dropping would have sounded like a bomb. Normal followed her out, then waited for her retreating form to leave earshot before he turned a grim face to his employees. His voice sounded detached, for he was also feeling the strong effects of Max's absence. His news was greeted with gasps and more silence until a muffled sob overcame the void and Max's friends were able to grieve their loss.  
  
It had been Sketchy who had suggested the memorial service. After the shock, the group skipped Crash for a few days and chose the park instead. It was there with tears in his eyes that he came up with the idea. At first, Cindy wasn't sure if she could handle it, and she was even more concerned about Logan, but at her friends urgings, she agreed. Herbal approached the owner of Crash asking if it was possible to shut the bar down for one afternoon in which they could use it. The man's first reaction was a scoff, but when he heard the reason he agreed immediately. Max had touched a lot of people, and he was very well aware of who she was. When offered payment, he refused saying it was the least he could do.  
  
And so that was why, with the sun shining cruelly in the sky, Logan made his way out to his Aztec for his first time in public since the raid on Manticore three weeks ago. Bling followed him, and sat in the passenger's seat keeping quiet, but letting Logan know that he was there for him. As the vehicle neared Crash, Logan just about turned it around, but the thought of not being there for this forced him to shut off the car, and walk into the bar.  
  
When Cindy saw Logan enter, she mustered a soft smile in his direction, before standing in front of the large crowd.  
  
"Hey," As she surveyed the people, she marveled at what Max's personality had accomplished in so many lives. There was everyone; Sketchy, Herbal, Normal, the rest of the crew at Jam Pony, Kendra, Walter, Bling, and so many others. The bar was packed full of people, some who she had barely said two words to but who had still been touched deeply by her life, and others who she would have fought for with her last breath. Like Logan.  
  
"I just wanted to thank you all for coming out. I know that all of you had some connection with my Boo, and I think that she'd be really happy to see y'all out here on account of her. She never understood how she affected people, and she wouldn't believe this crowd, but she sure would be grateful."  
  
Cindy paused for a moment, stealing strength from the teary smiles and small nods.  
  
"When I met Max, the first thing that I noticed was her kindness. She was new at work, and I was in a jam. I needed to get off quick, but I was running late. She owed me nothing, but she noticed that I was panicking, and she took the packages from me. She told me to jet, that she knew I'd repay her some day. I was pretty bent out of shape and she did the one thing that could've helped me. I'm afraid to say that I don't think I ever fully paid her back for all of the things that girl did for me. She kept me real, showed me that my problems could be fixed, that it could get better. But she also gave me something else, something better than all of that. She gave me a friendship that I never knew I could have. I just wish that I could've shown her exactly what that meant to me. I just wish that my Boo would've gotten the chance to have so much more, because Lord knows that she deserved it. She never understood the power she had over people, and I just wish that I could've made her see that...that there were people that loved her with all their hearts, and..."Cindy stopped then, her words too choked with emotion to allow her to continue. Herbal walked to Cindy's side and put his arms around her, holding her tight.  
  
"She knew, girl." He whispered gently, "She knew."  
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When the stories were done being told, and the tears had all been shed, the crowd started to dissipate. Somewhere in the midst of the people Cindy lost track of Logan, but as the crowd disappeared altogether, she noticed him sitting at a table near the corner.  
  
"Hey boo." She greeted him softly, not wanting to disturb his thoughts. Looking up through a veil of tears Logan managed a weak smiled. "Mind if I sit wit ya?" At Logan's downward shake of his head, Cindy pulled out a chair and sat down heavily.  
  
"What're ya thinking?"  
  
"I'm thinking that the very first time I ever saw Max look completely comfortable it was at this very table." He looked at Cindy pointedly. "With you."  
  
"Yeah, well, the girl sure liked to party, I'll give you that much."  
  
"That's not what I meant." His words were so quiet that she could have pretended she hadn't heard him, but she knew that ignorance was not bliss in this case.  
  
"I knew what you meant, boy."  
  
"Even so, I just wanted to tell you that you did repay her. You were the first real friend she ever had, and that meant the world to her."  
  
Cindy didn't trust herself to respond right away and so a sad silence filled the air as each person contemplated their loss.  
  
"She wouldn't want this to stop you, you know."  
  
Cindy's statement caught Logan off guard, and he looked at her in confusion. "What?"  
  
"The last thing she would've wanted would be for you to ruin your life on account of the people at Manticore."  
  
"I'm not ruining my life on account of the people at Manticore."  
  
Cindy sighed, "She wouldn't want you to wreck it on her, either."  
  
At Logan's silence, Cindy placed her hand lightly over his. "There was a fire in you, boy, and that's what she fell for. Now, I know for a fact that if my Boo saw you right now, it would hurt her a lot more than a bullet in the chest would. All she wanted was to see that fire every day of her life. Now, you may not be able to see her, but she can see you, and I can tell you this; she's gotta be lookin' down with tears in her eyes because of what you're puttin' yourself through. This is not your fault."  
  
"Like hell it isn't." Logan's sudden ferocity would have made most people shrink back in fear, but Cindy was not going to give up that easily.  
  
"Boo, I know what you're feeling. But trust me on this one. You have to be strong." Leaning in, Cindy whispered her last words with a fervor. "If you let that bullet kill that fire then Manticore has won, 'cause honestly that's why she went there. To have a chance at seeing that fire everyday for the rest of her life." Standing, Cindy tried one last time. "Please Boo, don't let 'em win."  
  
And with that Cindy turned on her heel and disappeared out the door.  
  
Staring after her, Logan's mind whirled in frustration. The bullet had killed him, he had been shot just as bad as Max had, but Cindy was right. He couldn't let Manticore win. If his sleepless nights had taught him one thing, it was that hope was still alive. No matter how he tried to convince himself to look at reality, the Eyes Only in him was coming out, telling him that hope could never be killed. More than likely, Max was lost to him forever, but there was a faint glimmer there. If anyone could revive a person with a giant hole in their heart, it would be Manticore. And if anyone could survive such a procedure, then it would be Max. Maybe he was just kidding himself, but he knew what Max was capable of. And even if his dreams never would become reality, there was still something he could do. Max would not have died in vain.  
  
Manticore was going down. Hard. 


End file.
